


from the day i met you (i'd hang on your every word)

by liquidsky



Series: you make everything so easy [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Getting Together, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: Dani's life is upside-down. She can no longer deal with University, she's just realized she might like girls more than she thought she did, her tiny apartment is slowly turning into something akin to cardboardhell. And, apparently, she's falling in love with two people at once: Fi's a pizza delivery girl with warm eyes and a bright smile, Ona's a Master's student with charming jokes and good advice.No one's ever said that Dani's good at making decisions – but maybe this time she won't have to be.





	from the day i met you (i'd hang on your every word)

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to [**doodsxd**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd), the first irl friend to whom i've ever sent an unfinished/unposted fic, who tamed my wild dash obsession and caught my -ed mishaps and who i am most definitely going to hug once the semester starts. then also a gigantic _thank you_ to **[terpia](https://terpia.tumblr.com)** , whose corrections, suggestions and unbelievably kind comments helped more than i can say – my first time ever working with a beta could not have gone better and it's all thanks to them! and lastly thanks to [quercussp](https://quercussp.tumblr.com) for so kindly pointing me toward my lovely beta and to [dizzy](http://alittledizzy.tumblr.com) for approaching me after seeing me nervously rambling in the tags and for making me feel very welcome!

“Fuck,” Dani curses, scrambling off the couch and accidentally knocking the three law textbooks she's been using as coasters for the last four months clean off her table. She barely spares them a glance as she dashes toward the intercom, shoving her sweatpants down and struggling to lift her oversized Pokemon t-shirt over her head on the way. 

Naked except for her black pants, she buzzes Fi in and starts making the math in her head – according to her dodgy calculations, she has about one minute before Fi arrives at her door, and Dani needs to be ready. As far as plans go, Dani’s mildly aware that her weird seduction scheme isn't the best, but, unfortunately, she also knows full well that she has no idea how to flirt with another girl, which is why she's resorting to wrestling her way into a nearly see-through white tank top and a pair of tiny black shorts and trying to tame her mess of a hair into something that doesn't scream “depression naps”.

Dani's just finished shoving her hands into her tank top to pull her tits up when the doorbell rings. Shaking her head softly to make sure her hair’s falling over her shoulders, she opens the door—the way Fi makes her feel is so unbelievably new, and Dani's breath catches when their eyes meet and Fi smiles at her. 

“Hey,” Fi says, her voice as soft as it always is, and Dani wants her so much she feels it in her fingertips. 

“Hi,” Dani answers. Fi looks good today, her short hair recently cut. Her fringe sweeps over her forehead and highlights the blue of her eyes, and Dani's gaze fixes itself on the shape of Fi's lips almost unconsciously. 

“So,” Fi starts, and Dani looks up at her to find that she looks sheepish, “I’m afraid we have a problem today.”

Dani's pretty sure her heart stops. Is this—does Fi know? Dani schools her expression into something that hopefully manages to look neutral, even as her stomach sinks. There's no way Fi could know, could she? Maybe someone told her, and Dani can imagine that, Mark or someone else pointing out that there must be something wrong with her because _who orders the exact same thing every day?_ , and she suddenly wonders if Fi's apologetic expression means she's about to let her down easy–

“Mark didn't want me to tell you,” Fi continues, “but I figured I should prepare you for the disappointment–”

Oh, no, oh no, oh no–

“–we’re out of jalapenos today.” Fi finishes, and Dani’s heart kicks into motion again. She breathes out a sigh. 

“Jesus, Fi, that was an ominous way of putting it,” Dani says, and Fi laughs, her tongue poking out between her teeth. 

“Sorry, I couldn't help it,” Fi says, and she hands Dani the pizza box, grin still in place, “besides, you make the same order every time, I assumed jalapenos would be worthy of some drama.”

“Fair enough,” Dani holds the box against her hips, “did Mark substitute them with something else then?”

“Nope,” Fi says, “He thought about maybe changing it back to the usual, but I told him not to.”

“You did?” 

“Yeah, you might've mentioned something about not liking olives the first time I was here.”

Dani can't believe she's blushing over olives, but – it's thoughtful, is all, that Fi would remember some careless remark made weeks ago. Dani smiles at her, hoping Fi won’t spot the redness coloring her cheeks. 

“Thanks, Fi,” she tells her, and Fi nods. Dani allows her eyes to travel around Fi's features, once again taking note of the light dusting of freckles around her nose and cheeks, the plumpness of her lips as they curve upwards, the three different colors in her eyes. Fi's doing the same to her, she notices, when her eyes finally settle onto Fi's. Dani wonders what she sees in her, if she looks as enthralled by Fi as she feels, if Fi can tell her presence fills Dani's stomach with butterflies. 

“I should go,” Fi says, silencing her phone when it starts to ring.

She sounds regretful, maybe, and Dani wants nothing more than to ask her to stay – tonight and possibly forever – but instead what she says is “Ok.” 

“Enjoy your dinner,” Fi says, and Dani nods at her, inches back inside her apartment and closes the door on all the feelings that threaten to spill out whenever she's around Fi. 

Holding the box with both hands, Dani walks to her kitchen and resolutely ignores the ever-growing pile of pizza boxes balanced on top of her counter. She can deal with them tomorrow. 

––– 

The first time it happened had been right after Dani saw her ex for the first time in eight months. She'd been surprised, back then, by the heavy feeling of loneliness that had lodged itself in her chest when she saw him standing in line at Domino's. She had run home empty-handed with a mouthful of bitterness only to realize she didn't really have anything else to eat at her apartment and would have to order something and endure some sad type of social interaction so as not to starve. She'd been craving pizza – her day had gone to hell in five different ways already, ranging from a poor grade at a subject she cared nothing about to a frustrating conversation with her mom about her future law career and, now, to the sudden realization that Alex had moved on and she was still there, just as sad and lost and full of unanswered questions as she had been when he'd left. 

She had sighed to herself and ordered something not from Domino's but from the pizza place down her street, the small one with the pastel aesthetic and soft lighting – a simple act of pettiness that she’d allowed herself to indulge in. She had waited, wearing her largest Mario t-shirt and stained sweatpants, and opened the door with a fully formed plan to speak as little as possible.

Fi had been standing outside, her hair longer than it was now, though just as cool, and Dani felt her thoughts go silent – as if someone had suddenly clicked the off button on an old stereo. She had stared, and Fi had smiled, bright-eyed and wearing the exact same t-shirt as Dani. 

Dani's read online somewhere in one of her many 3am Wikipedia adventures that the brain can only hold on to a certain amount of memories, and she distinctly remembers wishing that this would be one that stuck: the delicate skin of Fi's hands as she handed Dani the box, the excitement in her voice when she noticed their matching t-shirts, the exact shape of her mouth as it wrapped around her words, light and not at all careful like Dani's tended to be. 

Dani's voice had caught in the back of her throat when she tried to speak, but Fi didn't seem to notice or care about her awkwardness, instead asking her about her favorite Mario character to race with, and Dani had answered, relishing in the wideness of Fi's grin when she disputed Dani's choice. At the time, Dani would've described their interaction as nice. Now, weeks later, so obnoxiously infatuated with Fi that she's ordered the same pizza nearly every day just so she could spend a few minutes in Fi’s company, Dani thinks she might start throwing around the word _life-changing_.

–– 

In the morning, Dani stares at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror and tries not to wince as she thinks of the number of boxes she needs to drag outside when she takes out her trash. The whole thing's slightly helped by how much food Dani has been giving away daily to the shelter down the street, but it's still embarrassing to think about. What is she going to do, spend the rest of her life stuffing her face with pizza and burning away her salary just so she can see Fi for not even ten minutes a day? 

She needs a new plan, one that doesn't involve flashing Fi with see-through tops and praying that Fi might decide her life’s some kind of cheesy porno. She needs a mature plan, a sound, sensible one that won't allow for the sort of foolishness she's often falling prey to. She probably needs to talk to someone about this, is the thing, ideally Louise, but she hasn't—she hasn't burst the capital B cat out of the bag yet, and she's not sure how to do it, she's not sure she can answer whatever questions Louise might ask, feels vulnerable and exposed and it's just. It's just a lot, and she hates that she feels so unsure about this, that she can't just be the kind of person she often sees online – someone who’s bold and brave and loud. Maybe if she could, she wouldn't have to spend her nights feverishly reading WikiHow and Yahoo answers articles on _How To Tell If Someone's Gay_ and picturing the awkward set Fi's shoulders would take if Dani asked her out and she had to tell Dani that she didn't like her like that. 

Dani finishes straightening her hair and drags herself and her unholy pile of cardboard boxes out of the apartment, shoving them into the recycling bin on her way to the bus stop. 

Louise's already texted her twice by the time Dani hops off the bus and onto the streets, dodging a group of painfully slow walkers to rush into the Starbucks they're meeting at. 

Louise is nowhere to be seen when Dani walks into the shop, so Dani settles down at a table in the far corner near the restrooms and waits. She's fiddling with some napkins and trying to come up with how she's going to tell her about Fi when Louise gets there. Dani drops the napkins and stands to hug her – she smells fruity and light, and the pink fabric of her puffy dress is soft against Dani's skin. Dani breathes her in. It's just Louise, whom she's known for years, with her loud laughter and kind demeanor. It's going to be fine. 

The conversation between them flows easily, and Dani's truly doing her best to follow Louise's story about Alfie and Zoe, but as soon as she stops talking and goes to take a sip of her coffee, Dani blurts out: “I need to talk to you about something.”

Louise lowers her coffee, then, her smile taking on that mom-like quality Dani so often associates with her. “Of course, love,” she says, “Is everything alright?” 

Dani's pretty sure her eyes must be twitching by now with how fast her heart’s beating, but she nods. “Everything's fine,” she says, folding her sweaty hands together under the table. She doesn't think she can do this. 

Louise nudges Dani's foot with hers, “But?” 

“There’s—” Dani starts, and her voice catches awkwardly around her words. She clears her throat, “There's this girl that I like.” 

She doesn't meet Louise's eyes, so Louise nudges Dani's foot again, just as softly as the first time. Dani looks up, and Louise grins encouragingly, “That’s good,” she says, “Tell me about her.” 

It's nothing like what Dani expected would happen, and she pauses, drying her clammy palms on her jeans. She feels almost light-headed with relief. “She’s beautiful,” Dani starts, and it's odd that she could spend so much of her time thinking about Fi but still not know quite how to explain her, “she has blue eyes, and she's almost as tall as me. She likes video games, too.”

“She sounds nice,” Louise tells her, “Where did you two meet?” 

“You're not allowed to laugh,” Dani warns, and Louise widens her eyes innocently, her fingers moving in a cross-my-heart gesture, “She works at a pizza place near my house.” 

“Ok–”

“I met her a few weeks ago when I ordered from there the first time and I have been ordering pizza nearly every day since then because I don't know if she likes girls or how to ask her out,” Dani admits, talking fast and powering through her embarrassment. Louise stares at her.

“Dani…” Louise starts, and bursts out laughing. 

“You said you wouldn't laugh!” 

“You've been ordering pizza every day for weeks?” Louise says, and Dani glares at her when she wipes at the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Dani, come on.” 

“I didn't know what to do!” Dani defends herself, as if she's not well aware of how pathetic the whole thing is. 

“You should've asked her out already!” Louise exclaims, “How many weeks are we talking here?” 

“... Six,” Dani admits, avoiding Louise’s eyes. 

“SIX WEEKS?” Louise nearly shouts, and Dani kicks her under the table. “Dani, that’s over a month, what are you waiting for?”

Dani glares at her, “Well, first of all–” and Louise narrows her eyes at Dani, “how am I supposed to know if she likes girls?”

“Can’t you tell?” 

“Uh, _no_? I would've done something already if I could, Lou.”

“I thought maybe it was a thing, you know, like. You realize you're gay and start noticing how everyone else is too?” 

“It’s not a fucking spider sense, Louise,” says Dani, “and I'm not, uh, I'm not gay.”

“Fine,” Louise says, “Bi? Pan? Anyway, six weeks is a long time, are you sure there hasn’t been flirting?”

“Bi, I think,” Dani tells her, “And maybe? I guess I feel like we’re flirting sometimes, but there’s no way of knowing for sure.” 

“Can’t you just ask?” 

“Sure, ‘do you like girls? Check yes or no’” Dani snarks, “I can’t just ask her.”

“What is your plan, then?” Louise asks, “Please tell me you haven’t actually been eating that much pizza every day, love.”

“I’ve been giving them out to that shelter near my place,” Dani says, and Louise nods. “I don’t really have a plan. I've been—uh. I guess I've been trying to look semi-hot and hoping for the best?” 

Louise stares at her, “You're joking.” 

“God, I wish I was,” Dani moans, mostly because she hasn't even told Louise about her attempts at flashing Fi her tits. 

“Ok,” Louise starts, “You need help,” 

Dani nods, “That’s why I'm here. Well, not really, I wanted to see you, too, you know—”

“Here's the thing, though. I don't really know anything about being gay,” 

Dani narrows her eyes at her, “Didn't you make out with Zoe that one time?” 

Louise gives her a look, “Yeah, _one time_ , it doesn't mean I'm apt to giving advice on this.” 

“That’s ok,” Dani tells her, “I didn’t really expect you to have all the answers—except for how I did totally expect you to have all the answers, but. I guess it feels good just to say it, you know.”

Louise, ever the sentimental one, reaches across the table to hold Dani’s hand. She doesn’t comment on how sweaty it is, even if Dani’s pretty sure she notices, “Thank you for telling me,” then, “I can't believe you thought I didn't know.” 

“Excuse me?” Dani says, immediately dropping Louise's hands, “What does that mean? I didn't even know.”

“Dani,” Louise says, and her voice sounds like it did that one time she tried to talk Dani out of eating pot brownies, “You check girls out all the time, what did you think was happening?”

“What? No, I don't,” Dani tries, and Louise snorts. 

“Mate,” she starts, “Three months ago at the mall? You legitimately said the words 'look at her tits’”

“As in 'tits I'd like to have as my own’” Dani explains, and Louise rolls her eyes. 

“Sure,” Louise tells her. Dani frowns. “You know what? I think I know someone who can help you,” Louise says, reaching into her bag for her cell phone, “You know Sophie, right?” she asks, and Dani nods, “Well, she’s moved in with PJ around a month ago, they're really happy, I think they might be planning on getting a dog, actually, and—

“–Ok, and that helps me how?” 

“Oh, right. PJ’s best friend – she's really gay and really nice and I’m giving you her number and telling her you’ll be in contact.”

“Louise,” Dani says, flatly, “I’m not gonna contact some random person about my girl troubles just because she’s gay.”

“Listen, Ona’s really nice, I’m sure she can help you figure out your thing with the pizza girl,” Louise nods to herself and continues typing something on her phone. Dani can’t believe this is happening, “I’m texting her. I’m telling her a friend of mine just recently figured out she likes girls and needs some advice and that you’ll be in contact, ok?” 

“I’m not– _Louise,_ ” Dani starts, and Louise ignores her, “Oh my god.”

“It’s done. Give me your phone”, and grabs her phone from where it’s sitting next to Dani’s coffee on the table when Dani doesn’t, “I’m putting her number in, her name’s Ona, she’s really nice, she's gay, it’s gonna be fine.”

“I’m not texting her,” Dani states.

“You can decide after you’ve had some time to think on it,” Louise says, in a tone that means she thinks Dani will do it. Dani sighs – that’s Louise for you. 

“Fine,” Dani says, “Thanks, I guess.”

“Anytime,” Louise answers, and takes a big sip of her coffee. 

––– 

Dani’s pacing around her living room, Crash Bandicoot paused on the TV in front of her. “I’m not doing it,” she mutters to herself, but she feels her will dimming by the second. 

She'd ordered from Papa’s again tonight, and Fi had been wearing a bright purple Fall Out Boy sweatshirt and a smile so wide that Dani nearly shut the door in her face due to how many feelings had bubbled up in her chest at the sight. Instead of acting crazy, though, she accepted the pizza box from Fi, refused to shiver when Fi’s fingers brushed hers on accident, and pointedly asked her about her favorite Fall Out Boy songs. They talked for fifteen minutes about the merits of From Under the Cork Tree versus Infinity on High, and by the time Fi told her she had to go, Dani felt more or less like she was ready to propose.

Remembering the enthusiasm in Fi’s voice as she had talked about The Carpal Tunnel of Love, Dani throws herself onto the couch and grabs her phone. With a sigh, she starts typing 

_Dani: hey there, this is dani, louise told me you were gay–_

“Louise told me you were gay, seriously?” she asks herself. She deletes most of the message, tries again: 

_Dani: hey there, this is dani, louise’s friend, she told me i could contact you for help with girl problems?_

Her phone vibrates with a text message not even a minute later,

_Ona: hi dani! this is ona :) she mentioned you might text me about it!! i'm no expert in dating lol but i could try to help you_

_Dani: oh good_  
_Dani: this is awkward haha but i guess i just wanted to know how can you tell if a girl likes girls?_

_Ona: dont worry about it!!!!! haha we've all been there_  
_Ona: and i guess you can't???? i still don’t always know for sure but i think maybe looking through her social media might give you a clue?_

_Dani: i don't have any of her social media :( tbh i don’t know even know her full name_

_Ona: ohhhh ok :/ if you don’t mind me asking… did you guys just meet or are you kind of close already?_

_Dani: it's been like a month since we've met? we talk a lot but never about that_

_Ona: ok this is gonna sound dumb but maybe mention something gay next time you see her?_

_Dani: lmao like what_

_Ona: i didn’t think that far ahead lol_

_Dani: like ‘heard any good hayley kiyoko songs lately’_

_Ona: who???_

_Dani: nooooo???? you don’t know her??? r u sure you’re gay?_

_Ona: positive!!!! but i’m bad w names so it might be that?_

_Dani: ok 🔍🔍_  
_Dani: you should listen to some her music though! if you like more bubblegum-ish pop. and the music videos are great too_

_Ona: i will :)_

There's a pause in the conversation then, and Dani smiles to herself at how easy this was. She's considering what to write next when her phone vibrates again, 

_Ona: i have an idea!_  
_Ona: do you guys talk about tv shows?_  
_Ona: you should talk about willow/tara_  
_Ona: from buffy the vampire slayer_

Dani grins – she'd binge-watched all seven seasons during summer break a few years ago. She distinctly remembers her obsession with Faith, how she'd bought one of those obnoxiously huge Eliza Dushku posters and kept it under her bed cause she felt too weird about hanging it up on her walls. Shit, maybe Louise had a point?

_Dani: holy fuck!!!! yes!!!!! buffy/faith is the superior wlw ship though_

_Ona: omg good to know you like btvs too!!!!_  
_Ona: i might've had to stop responding if you didn't_  
_Ona: and anything involving sarah michelle gellar is clearly the superior choice_

_Dani: i'm more of a eliza dushku girl myself but i see your point_

_Ona: that's fair lol wouldn't want the competition anyway_

Dani giggles–then stops just as soon as she realizes she's doing it, because come on. Still, it feels funny. She's not that used to talking about being attracted to girls—it seems ludicrous that she'd only really figured out that she even thought about girls like that once her last relationship had begun to crumble. The weird thing about retrospect, Dani thinks, is that it does kind of make you feel like you're Inspector Lestrade in a world full of Sherlock Holmeses, hopelessly missing all context clues while everyone else's standing around just waiting for you to realize. Dani thinks back to Louise's words and grimaces, 

_so lou told me you're friends with sophie_ Dani types, mostly because she's curious as to how close Ona and PJ really are – Louise is prone to exaggeration, sometimes, and _best friend_ could mean anything. 

_Ona: yeah! w peej actually!_

_he seems nice!!!! i haven't really hung out w him that much_ Dani writes – that's not exactly true, she's hung out with both Sophie and PJ a fair amount of times, and each time he'd struck her as the kind of person who was miles away from her league. A “strictly friends” league, of course, but one nonetheless. Sophie and PJ's league, if Dani had to guess, would be composed of all those odd creative types that Dani liked to gawk at in secret while pretending she didn't desperately wish to achieve that amount of self-assurance. She wonders if Ona's like that too. 

_you should!_ Ona texts, _he's the best!_

 _where did you guys meet?_ Dani decides to ask, in case the answer ends up being something the likes of ‘secret creative hot people assembly’ or similar. She doesn't even know if Ona's hot, but. It seems like a fair assumption to make, just based on Louise's general track record when it comes to friendships. 

_we went to film school together a few years back_ and Dani nods to herself, a little proud of correctly sniffing out that Ona might be like one of those people whose significant others Dani self-inserts as when she's bored at work and watching bypassers through the window. 

_you went to film school?_ Dani pauses, frowns at the pile of textbooks she currently has her feet on top of, _that sounds incredible! can i ask what made you pursue that?_

 _sure!_ Ona writes, _very simple answer haha i've always liked films and i wanted to learn how to make them (especially editing and post production, i’m doing my masters on that now and i really love it)_  
_Ona: what about you?_

 _law school_ Dani cringes, citing from memory one of the many lies she's told herself over the past two years, _thought maybe i'd enjoy convincing people of stuff_

 _very slytherin of you 🐍_ Ona's texted her–and Dani's mind is immediately wiped of her law school-related brackishness, a grin starting to make its way back to her lips as the conversation sails back to comfortable territory. 

_Dani: rude??????_

_Ona: oh no_  
_Ona: wrong house?_

_Dani: 🦁🦁🦁🦁 obviously_

_duly noted_ Ona says, and it's endearing. The three dots signaling that Ona's typing blink on the screen for a few seconds, then–

_Ona: i can't believe ios doesn't have a badger emoji 😭_

Dani snorts. 

_Dani: right? that hufflepuff erasure_

_Ona: how dare they!!!_

It's surprising how effortless it feels to chat with Ona like that, Dani thinks, when she looks at the clock and realizes that they've been texting back and forth for the past three hours. 

Dani wouldn’t describe herself as lonely, exactly, but she's aware that she's never been the kind of person to have an easy time connecting with others. She's close to Louise, and Chris from work seems to think she's funny, but – other people usually seem to find her too awkward, too tall, either too opinionated or not nearly enough, too loud or too likely to fade into the background of everyone else's lives.

She can't recall the last time she'd spent this long just chatting with someone – long enough that they've managed to cover a ridiculously wide variety of topics, going from discussing J.K Rowling's fall from grace to reminiscing about Final Fantasy and agreeing about Origin of Symmetry's title as the superior Muse album.

Ona's easy to talk to, in a way that makes Dani wish they'd met before – she seems confident with her choices and her tastes, but not without an endearing level of awkwardness. It's charming, and Dani enjoys having settled so comfortably in the rhythm of Ona's thoughts and tangents. Dani's always been the sort of person to find herself wrapped up in random bouts of ranting when discussing topics she cares about, but Ona hasn't seemed too bothered by it, and it's—

 _so_ Dani looks down at Ona's latest message, _about that girl you like_  
_tell me about her_

Dani sighs, conjuring a picture of Fi in her mind and once again failing to come up with words to describe her. Everything seems to fall short, 

_amazing,_ is what Dani settles for.  
_her eyes are beautiful and she's got great shoulders and her voice always sounds really nice_

 _what's her hair like?_ Ona asks, and Dani frowns.

_Dani: short_

_Ona: 🤐🤐🤐_

_Dani: seriously???_  
_Dani: aren't you supposed to be against stereotypes or something_

_Ona: just kidding lol_

_Dani: 👀👀_

_Ona: i promise!_

_Dani: fine. i believe you_

_Ona: thanks_

And Dani laughs then, but ends up staring at her own reflection for a full half-hour before bed that night. She touches her fingers to her lips, to her dimples, runs her hands through her hair. Dani's always thought she looked _soft_ , maybe a bit too much, like it always stopped her from coming across as _cool_. Maybe her hair's too long? She sighs and feels very small all of a sudden. 

She picks up her phone from where it's sitting on the counter, 

_Dani: what you said before_  
_Dani: about the hair_  
_Dani: do you think i should cut mine?_  
_Dani: i feel like. i don't know._

_Ona: danielle (is that your full name?)_  
_Ona: that was a joke, and a really bad one._  
_Ona: i made it cause i happen to be a lesbian w short hair but it's not a thing and i'm sorry i said it_

_Dani: (it is)_  
_Dani: you don't have to apologize_  
_Dani: just having a bit of an existential crisis here_  
_Dani: (i'm prone to that sorry in advance)_

_Ona: nothing to be sorry for_  
_Ona: life's pretty weird…. tons of stuff to think too much about_  
_Ona: but about the hair thing. there's no such thing as looking gay or i guess being gay enough_  
_Ona: you should look however you want and whether you're a lesbian or bi or something else_  
_Ona: that's all that matters_  
_Ona: it's how you feel on the inside_  
_Ona: sorry i sounded like a self-help audiobook there_  
_Ona: visit audible.com for more_

Dani smiles as she reads Ona's texts, the heavy anxiety caught in her chest loosening as she breathes and absorbs Ona's words. 

_Dani: thank you_  
_Dani: you've really helped_  
_Dani: sorry to dump this all on you i know we just met_

_Ona: don't worry about it_  
_Ona: emotional support is free of charge for people who can handle me for longer than three hours :)_

_you're an angel,_ Dani tells her, because she is. _good night ona_

_Ona: night! sleep well xx_

––– 

The next three days pass in a blur of constantly texting Ona and ransacking Manchester in hopes of finding a t-shirt with Willow printed out on the front. It seems like a sound plan—Dani gets to buy merch she likes, and this way she won't have to risk looking like an absolute loser in case it turns out that Fi has no clue who Willow or Tara are. For all they've been texting lately – about the weather and Killing Eve and Dani's piano playing and Ona's obsession with house plants – Dani hasn't told Ona about her t-shirt quest yet. She doesn't feel silly about it, necessarily, but she's decided to wait until she's found it to ask for Ona's opinion. In the meantime, it's been fun to just talk about everything and nothing in particular. Dani had never noticed how little time she spent texting until now, when it seems as though that's all she does. Her boss has even taken to giving her the stink-eye since she noticed that Dani's actually started typing things instead of just aimlessly scrolling up and down. 

Dani has also refrained from ordering anything from Papa's until she finds the t-shirt. Mostly because she knows Fi has Sundays and Mondays off, but also because she's figured she might benefit from not coming across as some sort of pizza glutton. It's probably too late for that, but Dani decides it can't hurt to try to salvage whatever dignity she has left. 

On the fourth day, a sunny Wednesday in which she called in sick to work so she could hop around town visiting yet another number of nerdy clothing stores, she finds the t-shirt. It's a good one – black and relatively snug, a fit that makes her look somewhat cool even with the large Willow print taking over most of the front. 

It's time, and she retrieves her phone from her back pocket and types, 

_Dani: from pathetic to banging what r ur thoughts on t-shirts as conversation starters?_

_Ona: they're great???? i probably do that too much lol_  
_Ona: especially w fall out boy merch like. would you wanna date someone that doesn't appreciate patrick stump? better to know beforehand_

Dani snorts, and her thoughts fly straight to Fi, picturing the slope of her shoulders and her bright purple FOB t-shirt. She grins, 

_Dani: mate_  
_Dani: HOW are we the same person?????_  
_Dani: fob is my fave band <3 we truly are not worthy of patrick stump :((((( _

_Ona: hahaha i guess it's fate that lou gave you my number_  
_Ona: what t-shirt are u using to scout potential suitors then?_

_Dani: found myself a willow shirt_  
_Dani: seemed like a soft introduction to the topic_  
_Dani: very subtle “are you gay check yes or no”_

_Ona: 👌👌👌👌_  
_Ona: nice!_  
_Ona: r u seeing her tonight?_

Dani cringes, realizing that her texts make it sound like she's going out with Fi. It's better than the alternative, probably, she doesn't want Ona, who constantly seems way too cool and mature to be giving Dani the time of day, to figure out the exact extent of Dani's chaotic life choices. 

_yeah_ Dani lies.

_Ona: good luck then!!!!! 🍀🍀🍀🍀_

_Dani: thanks!!!! 💗 i'll report back after_

_Ona: please do xx_

 

––– 

Dani's ready. She's _so_ ready – she's got her hair up in a bun and a thick coat of mascara on her lashes and is now standing in front of her fridge in black shorts and her Willow t-shirt, considering the pros and cons of drinking iced tea straight out of the bottle while she waits for Fi (and her pizza). 

She eyes the intercom, then turns back to her iced tea. Cups are so far away and—no one's here to judge. The many nights spent lying awake in fear of home invasion should definitely mean that she's allowed to collect on one of the few upsides of living alone. Shaking her head to herself, Dani grabs hold of the bottle. This is good decision making, the tea is so cold and so nice and she's thrilled about it for no more five seconds before she chokes on nothing and slobbers iced tea and saliva down her front–

Shit. She coughs, setting the bottle down on the counter and leaning forward to try to catch her breath. Dani can feel her eyes watering, and _God_ she should've listen to Louise and her grossly long rant about waterproof mascara. She's gonna look fully panda when Fi gets there, and that's not the person she's trying to be. No one's asking out pandas. 

She refuses to find it telling that the universe apparently couldn't allow her one measly night of dignity and nearly jumps out of her skin when the intercom rings—it's once again a mad race to buzz Fi in, run to the bedroom to change shirts, and clean off her mascara-stained face using a dirty dish rag only to stop in the hallway and count to five when Fi rings the doorbell, just so she won't look too desperate. She sighs to herself, straightens her back–

“Hey!” Dani says, hoping that the enthusiasm on her voice doesn't come across as fake.

Fi smiles back at her, looking as breathtaking as she always does, “Hi! How are you?” 

Dani resists the urge to lean back into the apartment so she can look at herself in the hallway mirror. Does she look like she's not okay? “I'm good! How are you?” 

“Good,” Fi nods, “We hadn't heard from you for a while, I thought maybe you'd abandoned us for Domino's.”

Three days is a while now? Dani smile grows bigger, and she leans against the doorframe in an attempt to look cool only for it to dawn on her that “a while” might mean Fi already thinks Dani is a pizza glutton instead of meaning that she's missed her. She clears her throat, “Nope! I was just—” just what? “—having dinner somewhere else these past few days.” 

She's semi-proud of her answer until she notices Fi's eyebrows raising and the way her smile falters on her face, “That's good! That you're–” Dani’s blowing her chances here, isn't she. 

“I was having dinner with my mom,” Dani interrupts, and it's such a ridiculous thing to lie about, “Not like, I wasn't having dinner dates. With a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. No girlfriends currently in the picture.” 

Fi stares at her, and could the ground _please_ open up and swallow Dani whole? It's genuinely uncanny that anyone could be this embarrassing all the time, for Christ's sake. Dani's about to grab her pizza and run for the hills when Fi takes a loud breath. Dani looks up at her, meets her eyes. Fi's cheeks are flushed, and her voice sounds bright when she says, “Good! I have dinner with my mom a lot too,” she seems to pause, “No girlfriends on this front either, so.”

Fi chooses that moment to hand Dani her pizza, and Dani's dumb overwhelmed brain settles on, “We have so much in common!” 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Fi doesn't seem to find anything too mortifying about the statement, and she's nodding decisively at Dani, 

“We do,” Fi agrees. 

Dani's palms go clammy with the earnestness in Fi's gaze, and she tries not to breathe too loudly when Fi adds, “Did you know no one had ever asked me about Susan before?”

It's one of those things, Dani thinks, that seem so small but are actually _not_ —Susan is Fi's cactus, and Fi had mentioned it no more than two times during the four weeks they'd known each other, but Dani had asked her about it anyway. Dani's grip on the pizza box tightens, and Fi's blushing, “And I don't think I've ever met anyone else who could rant about Attack on Titan for as long as you can.” 

“Fi–” Dani says, and she's aware that her eyes are probably too wide and that she must look too intense. 

“–I’m not explaining this right,” Fi mutters, and Dani wants to tell her _you are_ , but doesn't get to. She doesn't get to tell Fi she thinks she understands and doesn't get to hear whatever Fi was planning on saying next, because Fi's cell phone rings loudly and startles them both. Fi glances down, her mouth curving into a frown. 

“I have to go,” Fi says, “I–sorry.” 

Dani nods, and it's not at all what she wants to say but, “I'll see you,” she tells her. 

“Yeah,” Fi gives her one last quirk of her lips, her cheeks still colored pink, “See you.”

Dani waits, not retreating straight into her apartment like she usually does, instead watching as Fi walks away from her, cataloguing the dip of Fi's waist and the silky black of her hair. Dani sighs, holding the pizza box close to her body until Fi fades from view.

Inside, she places the box on the floor and leans back against the door, her heart speeding up. Dani stays there until her phone beeps, then makes her way to the couch, her mind reeling. 

_how did it go?_ Ona's texted her. Even Dani's hands feel off-kilter, she tries to type but her fingers keep dragging on the wrong letters. She pauses, breathes, 

_i don't know_ Dani manages to type—it's the most honest answer out of all possible ones, even if it might not make sense. 

_in a good way or a bad way?_ Ona asks, and it shouldn't surprise Dani that Ona knows what to ask. 

She leans her head back against the couch, _good_  
_i think definitely good_

 _i'm glad <3_ Ona writes, and Dani smiles, finally pulled out of her daze. 

She's happy to have someone to share this with, even if she doesn't know how to put what just happened into words quite yet. Dani closes her eyes – she likes Ona _so much_ , she feels suddenly very thankful for Louise for putting them in contact.

She _wants_ to tell Ona about it, she realizes, even if she thinks maybe writing it down won't do it justice, will make it sound too ordinary, too lacking in emotion. All of a sudden, she can't quite believe they haven't met yet, that she hasn't talked to Ona in person and can only vaguely imagine what she must look like when she smiles, if she's as funny and odd in real life as she is over texts. What she would look like _now_ , if she was there for Dani to try and stumble over her words to paint her a clear picture of all the ways in which Fi's just changed everything. 

Smiling, Dani thinks of what Ona must look like and her thoughts stumble back to Fi, picturing her blue eyes and big nose, the lovely scattering of freckles on her arms and face. Ona sounds like she's beautiful too, though Dani immediately feels a little silly for thinking that someone could _sound_ beautiful. But she probably is, maybe just as pretty and bright and fun as Fi. 

_i'm glad too_ , Dani types.

––– 

The next morning, Dani's having the world’s largest bowl of Shreddies and rewatching an episode of Fullmetal Alchemist when her phone vibrates with a new notification—she glances down to see that it’s Louise who's texted her, a short 

_Lou: If you're getting this text, you have been lovingly invited to my 25th birthday bash on Saturday, April 27th, at 6 p.m!_

That's less than two weeks from now, Dani notices, checking the date on her phone. Plenty of time to figure out what she's getting Louise for her birthday. It needs to be the perfect gift, Dani thinks, especially seeing how supportive Louise was when Dani told her about Fi. Dani's a notoriously great gift-giver, but she's not quite sure what she could get Louise as a thank you for giving her Ona's number. Dani's stomach flips when she realizes that Ona's probably going, too. Maybe? Probably. Louise's the kind of person to include anyone she's even vaguely acquaintanced with, which means she's most likely invited Ona as well. 

Dani pauses her anime, then puts down her breakfast so she can take a deep breath and pick up her phone. In two weeks, she might be seeing Ona in person for the first time. It's a weird feeling – she wants to, wants so much to listen to her voice and look in her eyes and see all the little things that make her her. But regardless of how much she wants those things, there's still a shadow of doubt clouding over her. What if they don't click in real life like they do through texts?

She knows a lot about Ona—knows that she's getting a master’s degree in Film Editing and Post-production, knows that she once met Joss Whedon and cried for three days straight, knows that she overuses the yeet meme and thinks about space very often and that blue is her favorite color and that she eats too much candy and hardly ever swears. She _likes_ her, and though everything about their short friendship has been unexpectedly easy so far, she desperately wants Ona to like her, too. 

And maybe she's scared the things Ona knows about her won't line up with reality. Ona knows that Dani plays the piano, but doesn’t know that she was never brave enough to follow her music school dreams. Knows that she studies law, but not that Dani hasn't attended a single lecture in weeks because they make her want to crawl out of her skin; Knows that Dani thinks about space, too, about humanity and whether she's a good person, but not that Dani often wonders whether being a good person is even worth something. She doesn’t know that Dani thinks so much she sometimes wants to rip her brain out of her head, that she only ever wears black because sometimes she can't stand being looked at, that Dani doesn't know what she wants out of life or how to get it, and that most of the time she feels so lost she thinks she might as well give up. 

Last night, high off her feelings for Fi and realizing how badly she wanted to share them with Ona, she'd thought for a second she could share this, too. The bad along with the good. She thought Ona would've liked to know, would've understood, even. And that's maybe as terrifying a thought as thinking she wouldn't. 

Sighing, Dani texts Louise,

_Dani: i'll be there 💗_

And opens her text thread with Ona. She types three different variations of the same message and deletes all of them, settling for,

_Dani: hey have you talked to louise today?_

Dani scrolls through Tumblr for less than ten minutes before her phone vibrates, notifying her of Ona’s text,

_Ona: she texted me about the bday party thing!_  
_Ona: are you going?_

_yes! are you?_ Dani asks – she's still nervous, there's still a tightening of her chest, but she wants Ona to say yes, she realizes. She wants to see her. 

_i am!_ Ona writes then, and Dani feels breathless,  
_Ona: we’ll see each other there then!_  
_Ona: i mean_  
_Ona: if you want to?_

And Dani does. She wants to see her, wants to find out what her laughter sounds like. It's another thing she can't recall feeling for anyone this quickly before – she wants them to be close, to be a sure feature in each other's lives. She wonders if that's too much, Ona already has a best friend, as far as Dani knows, and maybe she's just. Nice? The kind of person who talks to people her every waking hour instead of someone who talks to _Dani_ every second of the day. Dani frowns. She hopes not. 

_of course!_ Dani writes her.  
_Dani: can’t wait to talk your ear off about muse irl_

 _can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ Ona texts her, and Dani’s insides feel funny looking at the amount of exclamation points in Ona's message.

––– 

The rest of Dani's week is spent dodging emails from her University and mindlessly scrolling through social media while waiting for Ona to respond to her texts. Dani occasionally feels kind of awkward about how much busier Ona's schedule seems to be in comparison to hers, but even so, Ona never seems less than thrilled to speak to Dani, responding to Dani's overly long rants about Riverdale and the Mandela Effect with equally intricate thoughts of her own. 

With Fi, whom she still sees every night, things are going—well. Dani doesn't have a word for that other than _weird_. On the day that followed their electric moment in the hallway, Dani had opened the door with half a mind to just confess to her tangled mess of feelings, only to find that there was something _different_ about Fi. 

She still smiled at Dani in that way that made Dani's heart flutter, and her voice was still soft, her blue eyes just as intense. But there was something else there too that Dani'd seen, and when Fi didn't act any different from usual, Dani just. She couldn't bring herself to say it, fear keeping hold of the words she'd wanted to mutter, instead allowing a brief “Have you seen the new 5SOS music video?” to escape her mouth. 

Fi had grinned, then, relief written in the breath she let out before she replied to Dani's question with a far more detailed commentary on Ashton Irwin's hair choices that Dani expected to get. She's gotten lost in Fi's words, all of them semi-tangling together as all Dani could think of was a sad loop of _I like you I like you I like you._

When Fi had left that day, Dani's glowing mood had shifted into something bittersweet—maybe Fi had meant all of it in a friendly way, or maybe she hadn't, but simply decided it wasn't worth pursuing when she'd given it more thought. _If_ she'd given it more thought. 

But now it's four days later and Dani _needs_ to think of something else, she decides from where she's sprawled across her bed, coming across a perfect dog meme to send Ona. 

_that was INCREDIBLE,_ Ona replies, and Dani laughs, shifting so she can prop her legs up on the wall. 

_i want a dog so bad,_ Ona tells her next, and Dani knows the feeling. She thinks about sending Ona her perfectly curated folder full to the brim with pictures of puppies she'd seen on different shelters’ Facebook pages. 

_why don't you get one?_ She asks.

_Ona: too busy :/ w classes during the day and work at night it wouldn't be fair to it_  
_Ona: and i think i'm allergic_

Dani didn't know Ona had a job as well! She doesn't know if that's typical for masters students, but it feels like an awkward thing to ask in case it isn't. 

_i didn't know you worked too!_ Dani types, hoping she doesn't come across as nosy. 

_Ona: yeah :(_  
_Ona: need to pay the bills somehow_  
_Ona: but it's fine i've been enjoying going to work these past few weeks 😇_

Dani is not sure whether it's alright to ask what Ona does for a living–Ona would've offered the information if she wanted Dani to know, probably, so Dani types in,

_Dani: how can you study work AND have finished spider-verse already? 👀_  
_Dani: r u sure you don't have a tardis?_

_how did you know?????_ Dani reads, opening the gif Ona's embedded in the text and snorting at Matt Smith's face. 

_i knew it!_ Dani types, and she doesn't know why she'd worried for even half a second that Ona wouldn't get the reference. 

_Dani: would you possibly be in need of a companion?_

_why? you know anyone interested?_ Ona asks, and Dani rolls her eyes to herself, grinning dumbly at her screen. 

_Dani: 😡😡_

_Ona: kidding. you'd be my first pick for adventures across the space and time, don't worry_

Dani flexes her toes where they're resting against the wall, warmth spreading down her limbs. 

_good to know 😇_ Dani types, only after hitting send realizing that–she reads through the messages again, and her stomach drops. That definitely, _definitely_ seems like flirting. 

Is she–she’s not flirting with Ona, is she? Not that there would be anything wrong with that, per se, it's just that. She likes Fi. Likes the way exaggerated way her lips move when she speaks, enjoys her heavy northern accent and the set of her shoulders and the curve of her hips and her thoughts on Game of Thrones. She likes _Fi_. And she's not sure if Fi likes her back or not, but it doesn't change the fact that Fi has been the only thing on her mind for more than seven weeks now. She is – at all times of the day, constantly infiltrating Dani's thoughts when Dani's screaming to My Chemical Romance in the shower or buying cheese-less pasta on her lunch break from work or walking past shower gels that smell vaguely like Fi at Tesco's. 

She's even on Dani's mind when she's texting Ona, though that's been less and less frequent the more she and Ona talk.

She throws her cell phone all the way to the far edge of her bed, only to have to sit up and retrieve it when it vibrates with a new text. 

_Ona: my shift’s starting so i might not respond for a while but i was thinking maybe we could race on mario kart when i get home?_

They've never done this before, and Dani knows full well that setting Mario Kart dates is tremendously counterproductive to how hard she needs to try to squash whatever romantic feelings she's apparently started developing for Ona, but she can't help herself from typing out,

_Dani: i'd love that! text me when you get home then_

Decidedly hitting play on Welcome to the Black Parade, Dani showers and straightens her hair before clicking away on her phone for her usual Papa's order, feeling weirdly dejected. Why can't things ever be simple? She puts on black sweatpants and her black YEEZUS sweatshirt and slides on her socks to the couch—she stares at the textbooks on her table and feels almost like she wants to bang her head against them. Why can't she just figure out what she wants from life and make a freaking move? Other people do it all the time, it can't possibly be that hard, can it? 

Without thinking, she hastily picks them up and moves them to one of the empty cupboards in the kitchen. She flops back down on her couch and stares at the now-empty table. That's better. One less thing on her mind.

Dani flips through the channels while she waits for Fi to get there, the usual enthusiasm over the prospect of seeing Fi making its way up her body. 

She's already leaning against her door frame by the time Fi walks out of the lift, wearing a smile and a bright green jumper. Dani thinks about her textbook-free table, about the cadence of Fi's voice that day, about her complicated feelings for Ona.

“Hey,” Fi greets her, and Dani makes up her mind. 

“You look pretty today,” Dani says, as deliberately as she knows how. Fi's face immediately reddens, “Green really suits you.”

“Th—thanks,” Fi tells her, and her eyes look an even lighter shade of blue against the pink of her cheeks, “You look pretty too.” 

Dani wants to smile, but she's aware of how she usually looks after thinking too much, “Not tired?” she asks, and Fi pauses, her gaze sharpening. 

“You look tired,” Fi admits, and Dani's palms start sweating. There's a beat, as if Fi's choosing her next words with care, “but I don't think that makes you any less pretty.” she says, then.

“Oh,” is Dani's reply, suddenly thrown off-balance. She can feel her face heating. Fi hands her the pizza. 

“Are you ok?” Fi asks, and her voice sounds so quiet that the question is barely a question at all. 

“I've been having a weird time lately, I guess,” Dani says, “How do you–” but pauses. It's a weird question to ask, Dani thinks, and it's almost absurd, the turn their conversation has taken. 

“How do I what?” Fi questions, her eyes searching when they meet Dani's. 

“How do you know what you're supposed to be doing in life?” Dani finishes and immediately feels fucking ridiculous. What kind of question is that? It's too serious, too prying, too vulnerable and sudden for the light-hearted flirtation she'd hoped to achieve, what is happening— “Never mind,” Dani says, “that was a dumb thing to say, just–”

“No,” Fi interrupts her gently, “It's not a dumb thing to say, Dani.” 

“No?” 

“No, it's just…” Fi _looks_ at her, and it's surprising, “I think it's just about finding something that makes you happy. Or, maybe not _happy,_ but just. Something that doesn't feel heavy.”

Dani doesn't say anything–she can barely breathe, in fact, staring at Fi and the gentle glint in her eyes and tightening her hands around her pizza box. 

“That was a terrible answer, wasn't it? Sorry, I'm not sure ho—” Fi starts, and she's gesticulating wildly in a way that betrays her nervousness. Dani shoves the box between her hips and the door frame so she can take hold of Fi's hands. 

“It was a good answer, Fi,” Dani says, “Thank you.” 

Fi nods, softly, and the second they spend holding hands outside Dani's apartment feels like an hour. Dani's mind flashes back to how Fi's voice had sounded a week ago, and she wants to say _something_ , but then Fi's brusquely letting go of Dani's hands, her cell phone going off in her pocket. Dani goes back to holding the box in her hands. 

“I have to go,” Fi says, and Dani nods at her. 

“Thank you for today,” Dani says, and there's something bright burning behind Fi's eyes.

“Any time.” She says, and Dani watches as she turns away from her and keeps walking–her breath catching when Fi pauses, looks at Dani over her shoulders, “Dani,” she starts, “I meant it, ok? Any time.”

—– 

 

_Ona: do you think it's possible to like two people at once?_

Dani squints at Ona's message and sits up in bed. The clock on the top of her screen reads 4:55 a.m, and she's surprised that Ona's still awake. Their Mario Kart match had been fun, even with how out of sorts Dani was feeling after her unexpectedly sentimental interaction with Fi. It was always fun with Ona, her uneasiness leaving her bit by bit the more she had kicked Ona's ass in the game. 

Some of it had come back as she'd gotten ready for bed, leaving her tender and overly contemplative and keeping her from sleep. She's been staring at the ceiling for the better part of three hours now, and her heart speeds up when she reads Ona's text for the second time. 

_i think so,_ Dani carefully types.  
_why do you ask?_

 _there's this girl that i like,_ is what Ona writes back. Dani waits – the three little dots appear and disappear many times before the next message comes through, _i’ve liked for a while now, but someone else came along and i guess i don’t know how i feel anymore. i still like her like i did before, but i also like this new person a lot too. maybe just as much._

Dani lies back down against her pillows, cell phone in hands. She doesn’t know what to say – Ona's just described the exact situation she's in, and it feels unfair the way hope sits in her chest when she reads Ona's message one more time. 

_i think it’s possible to like two people at once,_ she tells Ona. 

She thinks back to how she felt today, how Fi’s hands on hers made every little hair on her body stand up, how everything else around them seemed to blur for a moment. Then, she thinks about how she felt after, how she feels now—the warmth that settles in her skin when Ona texts her, how fervently she wishes to catalogue every little detail Ona shares with her. 

Dani types, _i think our hearts are big enough for that,_ and hits send. 

_will you tell me about her?_ Dani sends next, and closes her eyes for a second while she waits for Ona to respond – when Louise had asked about Fi, Dani had felt like words were so insufficient to everything Fi was. To how Dani saw her. She thinks about how she’d describe Ona if someone asked. She doesn’t quite think she has words for that, either. Her phone vibrates, she opens her eyes,

 _she makes me feel like i’m walking around with my body inside-out,_ Dani reads, _i don’t know that i know how to explain it but it’s like i couldn’t possibly hope to hide anything from her. her eyes are always so warm and they see me in a way that i don’t think anyone else ever has. that sounds dramatic._

 _it doesn’t,_ Dani says, because she knows the feeling—it's how Ona always knows what to ask, what to say even when Dani doesn't offer explanations. Her phone vibrates again, 

_Ona: her eyes are always warm and she’s taller than me which is rare because i’m very tall and she has dimples and her smile makes everything better and she makes me want to be brave. which is not something i am. ever._

_You’re brave,_ Dani thinks – she wants Ona to know that, but it doesn't feel like that’s hers to say now.

 _and the new girl?_ Dani types, because she can't help herself. The way yearning fills her insides feels reckless now that she knows there's someone else. Someone special, like Fi is for Dani. She hits send anyway.

 _it’s easy with her,_ is what Ona’s writes, _feels comfortable like coming home after a long day. she’s funny. she makes me feel less alone._

Dani pauses, fingers going still against the screen. _Pick that one,_ she wants to say, _please,_ but it's not fair and she knows it. Not when there's Fi, and Dani knows in her heart she would never _not_ pick her. 

_what are you going to do?_ Dani asks, then. 

_i don’t know,_ Ona says. 

_Dani: will you let me know when you do?_

_Ona: you’ll be the first person i tell_

––– 

Dani’s Sunday is spent lying on her sofa, playing Spider-Verse and screening calls from her mom. Ona doesn’t text her once, so Dani applies herself to resisting the urge to try to start a conversation. She understands. 

––– 

On Monday, Dani’s woken up by the sound of an ambulance driving outside her apartment—she feels something vibrating against her elbow and tries to disentangle herself from her covers to grab her phone. Three missed calls, all from Louise. Dani calls her back, 

“Morning,” Louise greets her, sounding slightly out of breath. 

“Hi,” Dani says, “You called?”

“Yes!” says Louise, and Dani frowns at the weird rustling noise coming from the other side of the call, “Can you be here a bit earlier on Saturday? I’ll need some help putting up a few balloons.”

“Uh, what are you doing right now?” Dani asks, before “And of course, I can be there at three?”

“Three’s perfect,” Louise agrees, and Dani squints against the sunlight entering her bedroom. _What time is it?_ “I’m hosting a lunch for some of the other bloggers in the area, I think I told you about it?”

“Oh, right,” She hadn’t, “I’ll let you get to it, then. See you on Saturday.”

“See you then,” Louise says, and disconnects the call. Dani flops back against the mattress, closing her eyes for a second. It's probably late if the sun's this bright already, and she wonders how she'd forgotten to set an alarm. Funnily enough, she doesn't think her boss will be very understanding of her calling in _another_ sick day. 

She opens her eyes again, pressing the unlock button on her phone so she can look at the time. 

It’s after 12 p.m. She texts her boss a carefully composed message that appropriately implies diarrhea, and sighs. She's going to get fired and be broke and will never be able to order pizza again and she won't ever see Fi because she's not brave enough to ask her out and maybe her phone line will be cut due to her not paying the bills and she'll never speak to Ona ever again and then she'll be in even deeper shit. 

God, what is _wrong_ with her? 

She opens her text thread with Ona, but there’s nothing new since they’d last spoken on Saturday night. She opens YouTube and types in “funny dog fail compilation”, clicking on the first one she finds. She watches about three seconds of it before copying the link and pasting it to her conversation with Ona, quickly typing in a _saw this on tumblr and thought of you haha_ before hitting send and closing the app. 

Sighing, she thinks back to Fi’s words about finding things that make life lighter. Tries to reflect on what that means for her—less heavy means playing the piano, talking to Ona, seeing Fi. She's confused, and she's going to have to stop screening calls from her mom and from the University of Manchester soon, but for now she's just – she needs to be brave, is the thing. That's probably what it really comes down to, at the end of the day. She opens her text thread with Ona and reads through their last conversation again. _She makes me want to be brave_. That's true for Dani as well. The confusion she feels about Ona and Fi is a different kind from the lonely one she feels about her future. Even if not quite _brave_ , they both make Dani feel daring – it's the wanting, she thinks. Even if it's confusing at the moment because her desire is split sideways and tugging her along opposite paths, she can still recognize that she wants all of it enough to be spurred into action. 

She wonders if it's possible for her to be daring about the rest of it – with careful fingers, she reaches under her bed for the box full of flyers she’s collected in the months before applying to law school. 

Near the bottom of the pile she finds what she was looking for. She traces her fingers over the letters, designed in black, pink and yellow – the Royal Northern College of Music. Once upon a time that used to be her dream school. Her dream, period. She wonders if it still could be. _She makes me want to be brave_ , Dani remembers. She wants to be that person. She wants that to be who she is—for Ona, maybe for Fi, definitely for herself. Dani thinks that’s the person Ona deserves, and it dawns on her suddenly that that's who Dani deserves, too.

She puts all the flyers back into the box—all of them except for the one on the Royal Northern College of Music. Dani hops out of bed with the flyer in hands and crosses the room to stick it to the Kanye poster next to her door. She places the box under the bed again and wriggles back under the covers, holding her phone.

She presses down on her recent calls and lifts the phone to her ear. It rings, and she closes her eyes. 

“Dani?” says the voice on the other side of the line.

“Hi, mom,” Dani says.

–––

_Ona: i LOVE THIS VIDEO_  
_Ona: 🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶_  
_Ona: sorry for the radio silence btw i went home to my parents’ and it was kind of hectic_

_Dani: no worries!_

_Ona: i'll be home in a few hours if you wanna play some mario kart?_

_Dani: sure!!!!!! let me know when :)_

––– 

Dani's still thinking about being brave the next morning, and the morning two days later. She's finally told her mom she's dropping out of law school – the conversation could've gone smoother, but she's so relieved she did that she's willing to take whatever scraps of reluctant acceptance she can get. She'd poured over the same email for hours on end after her Mario Kart match with Ona, a ridiculous cycle of typing and deleting and pausing to pace around her apartment before settling back in bed to try again. 

She texts Ona about it, finally, after she types the last period on the email she's so carefully crafted to Manchester University. She did it. It's done, and she feels so light for a few seconds it's as if she barely exists.

 _i'm dropping out of law school,_ Dani writes.

She gets up from the bed, sliding on her socks all the way to the kitchen. She stares at her most recent collection of cardboard pizza boxes and sighs. Her phone vibrates, 

_Ona: wow_  
_is that a good thing? are you happy?_ Ona asks, and Dani leans against the counter, her thoughts uncharacteristically calm. 

_i'm happy,_ she tells Ona  
_Dani: the thing you said about wanting to be brave_  
_Dani: i decided i should try that_  
_Dani: and i'm happy_

Dani wants to thank her, wants to say it's Ona who made her brave. It's true, but it feels too complicated to say over text. _I've known you for a week and you've changed my life already._ It's a lot – realizing the extent of what she could feel for Ona if she allowed herself to. She could fall for her, she thinks, but falling in love makes her think of Fi again and it's—

 _you deserve to be happy!!!!!!_ Ona writes,  
_Ona: i'm proud of you! thank you for sharing this with me!_

She could fall for Ona, Dani knows, like she's falling for Fi. And it could be incredible, but maybe she's not the person Ona should be falling in love with – she was brave now, but she's not the one who makes Ona brave, and she deserves that. 

––– 

She's thinking about it the following evening while she washes her hair, her mind jumping from Fi to Ona and all the ways they've made her life better over the course of weeks. The shower tends to be the place where ideas seem to come to her the most, but this time she's not really sure it's working – the water makes her feel safe, but there’s still. So much to figure out. She got the email from the University of Manchester detailing the list of documents she needs to compile in order to cancel her involvement with the school earlier today, and so she's spent the better part of the day feeling weirdly off-kilter, a strange sense of relief mixed with a terrifying notion of “what comes next?”

Massaging her scalp and leaning back under the spray, she closes her eyes and tries not to think of anything for a moment. It's not something that works for her—Dani's always thinking, one way or another, her mind working overtime to cover all possible anxieties and fears and paralyzing indecisions. In previous years she would have desperately wished for someone to take the choice off her hands and make whatever hard decision she needs to make for her, but not this year. 

She feels decidedly grown-up as she soaps her legs up and bends down to shave them—she can do this, probably. Whatever set of hard decisions she needs to make next is something she can handle. The consequences, too. She's afraid, still, but as she rinses herself one final time before stepping off the shower and flopping naked and wet down on the bed, she can't help but think she's been through worse.

The next thing coming will be something good, she decides.

She blow-dries her hair and dedicates a good half an hour to straightening it as diligently as she can. She applies mascara, too, and even a light dusting of warm brown eyeshadow to the crease of her eyelids. She stares at her own reflection in the mirror – she looks good. Soft, still, but she finds that doesn't bother her like it did before. 

She thought about this for two hours while she laid in bed covering her eyes with a pillow and listening to Citizen Erased on repeat, and now, leaning over the couch to retrieve her phone, she feels her stomach flip inside her body. 

She types, _you should ask her out_ and her fingers hesitate over the “send” button for almost a minute. When she finally hits it, she quickly follows up with _the first girl. you should go for it._

—– 

Dani wraps her arms tighter around her middle – she's not cold, exactly, but it seems to help shield her from some of the nervousness seeping into her bones as she makes her way down the street. She wonders if she should be feeling more sure than she actually is, if the way her hands feel stiff and her heart taut means she's made the wrong decision. 

Dani puffs out a breath – whether it was the right one or not, it's done now. Ona still hasn't responded by the time Dani left her apartment, fifteen minutes after she'd sent the message and every single second of them spent pacing heavily around the lounge. But it's done now, and it doesn't feel like the kind of thing to be taken back. Dani's not sure she would even if she somehow could. Then she's standing in front of Papa's door and looking in through the glass—the pastel yellows and blues on the walls and the chairs, the white of the tables and the soft lighting a stark contrast to the outside where Manchester seems too hard and unyielding. 

Though she's walked past Papa’s about a million times over the two years she's lived in her dingy flat and has eaten their pizza more times than it’s appropriate to mention over the past seven weeks, she's never once been inside the restaurant. She checks the time on her phone – it's five past six, and Fi should be there. 

Slightly out of breath, Dani pulls the door open and steps inside. The tall man standing behind the register flipping through a newspaper looks up at her when the bell above the door rings, and she tries to put on her most convincing smile. 

“Welcome to Papa's,” he says, his voice startlingly loud and deep as he straightens up and grins at her, “How can we help you today?” 

“Hey,” Dani says. Her voice sounds clear enough, but she clears her throat anyway, “I'm, uh. I'm not ordering today, actually, I was just wondering if maybe Fi was here?” 

Mark, his name tag says, and oh–Mark looks at her for a long moment without saying anything and Dani's starting to feel ridiculous–what was she _thinking_ coming to Fi's workplace to—

“I think she's helping Sean in the kitchen, but she'll be right out,” he tells her, finally, and his grin seems to have stretched three sizes, the glint in his eyes a little scary now, “You can sit down to wait for her if you'd like,” then, “Excuse me!” 

He abandons the register and walks past the door into another room, and Dani's left alone in the middle of the diner. She looks around for a second, leans forward into the counter then feels awkward about leaning forward into the counter and decides to sit down on one of the booths near the counter.

She watches the clock on the wall across from her, and it's three minutes before Fi comes rushing out of what Dani assumes must be the kitchen door, and she's wearing a bright Buffy The Vampire Slayer sweatshirt today. Dani stares at her, flushing from head to toe – Fi looks really good. 

“Dani,” Fi exclaims, walking up to Dani and lowering herself down on the seat across from her, “Hi! Decided to have your pizza here today?” 

Dani laughs, more out of nervousness than humor, “No pizza for me today,” she says, and Fi looks surprised, “I'm actually—uh. I–” she pauses, trying to stop her legs from bouncing up and down. “I'm here to see you.” 

“Oh,” Fi says, and Dani doesn't wait for her to say anything else,

“Do you want to go out with me?” Dani asks, hoping to God she doesn't sound as flustered as she feels. “On Sunday, to dinner or coffee or–anything, really.” 

Dani stops talking and gets to watch Fi's cheeks flood with color, and she smiles, but it's not—it’s not her usual smile, there's something guarded about it. “Would it be a date?” Fi asks.

“Yeah,” Dani says, and Fi bites her lips. Dani feels her blood run cold all of a sudden, but she doesn't get to hear what Fi's about to say to that because as soon as she opens her mouth Mark is next to them. 

They must look startled, because he immediately apologizes, “Sorry to interrupt,” he says, and places a phone in front of Fi on the table, “Sean asked me to give this to you to use tonight.” 

Fi looks down at the phone, then up at Mark, “Thanks,” she says, and she doesn't sound anything like she usually does. 

“I left my phone in the office at Uni by accident,” Fi explains, then fiddles with the phone Mark's left her like she's trying to buy herself time. 

Dani sits back, waits her out. She watches Fi's slender hands, her wrists, Sarah Michelle Gellar's face as it stares at Dani from where it's printed on the front of Fi's sweater. 

“Dani,” Fi starts – she looks at once content and doleful, “Do you think—would it be ok if I had some time to think?” 

Dani doesn't know what to say, so, of course, what she says is, “Yes, of course.” 

Fi looks grateful, and also like she's sorry, “Sorry,” she tells Dani, “There are a few things going on that I need to think about before I–” she doesn't look like she knows what comes next, but neither does Dani, so it's a few beats of silence before Fi starts again, “I like you,” Fi says, “I really–the way you make me feel is–” 

“Fi, it's okay,” Dani stops her, because it is, and because she's feeling too much, and her head is starting to hurt with how hard she's working to keep her careful smile from sliding off her face.

“Will you come back here on Saturday?” Fi asks, “Or I can come to yours? I don't mean–it’s okay if you feel like you don't want to wait, I understand it's a lot to ask,”

“It's not,” Dani assures her, and they look at each other for a long moment, “Even if you decide that you can't or you just don't want to, I'd still–I'd like to be friends, we could just. Do something else, not a date, but–”

“Something else,” Fi repeats, and it sounds like she's testing how the words fit in her mouth, “I'd love to be friends, Dani,” she smiles, then, and Dani feels warm, her own smile no longer struggling to stay put, “I kind of feel like we already are,” 

“Me too,” Dani says, and she carefully places her hands on the table, palms up. Fi looks at them, shyly runs her fingers along the skin there. “We'll figure it out together,” Dani assures her. 

Fi nods at her and Dani feels too inclined to call it perfect timing when Mark interrupts them again, this time to tell Fi she's needed for a delivery. Fi stands up, then, and Dani follows her lead. 

“So, Saturday,” Dani says, and Fi nods at her,

“If that's okay,” she replies.

“I'll meet you here at the end of your shift and we can talk about things,” Dani tells her. 

Fi's smiling, her real smile now, the one Dani's grown so used to, “Thanks, Dani,” she says, “See you then.” 

––– 

The walk back to her apartment feels uncannily silent even as there’s noise on the streets—police cars and people talking loudly to each other and into their phones, music coming from one of the bars. Still, Dani feels like nothing’s happening around her at all, and it’s dramatic, maybe, but she barely has time to lock her front door before she’s bursting into tears. 

She sits down on the floor right there in the middle of the hallway, refusing to walk past her kitchen and face the pile of pizza boxes cramming her counter. It’s silly. She feels silly, embarrassed about her behaviour and sorry that she had been right to be nervous and decided to ignore it. She thinks of the message she’d sent Ona earlier, and it’s not quite regret sitting heavy on her stomach, but whatever it is still clogs her throat and wraps around her heart in a way that makes her wish she could disappear from existence for a while. 

It takes her four hours to stop crying. She moves from the hallway to the couch and from the couch to the toilet and from the toilet to the bed, soaking the collar of her sweater with tears and feeling miserable and overwhelmingly embarrassed. Ona still hasn’t replied to her text by the time Dani checks her phone again, and the realization that she’d probably ruined everything and Ona won’t even talk to her anymore makes her shove her face against a pillow, most likely leaving another set of black mascara stains behind. 

––– 

 

Dani wakes up to the sound of her phone beeping the next morning, and for a moment she doesn’t know why she forgot to set it to the _do not disturb_ mode. She lies there for a few minutes once her cell phone stops, face mushed against the pillows and eyes closed against the sunlight. It’s probably still early if her alarm hasn’t ringed yet, and Dani wonders if she could just stay in bed and ignore the world for the rest of the day – her boss might send Chris to kill her if she skips work again, though, and as much as she’d be down to make her merry way onto the next plane of existence, she’s sort of unsure about having Chris take part in the whole thing. 

Her cheek sticks grossly to the pillowcase when she lifts her head, and Dani winces. Her brain feels humongous, and she flops around gently so she’s lying face up on the mattress. 

She stares up at the ceiling. It’s probably Ona texting her, and fear settles heavily on her ribs as she fetches her phone from where it’s lying next to her hips. 

_Ona: sorry it took me this long to reply. i didn’t have my phone with me last night so i didn’t see your message until this morning._  
_Ona: i understand and hope we can still be friends_

Dani stares at Ona’s text. She doesn’t know what she expected, but Ona’s understanding makes tears start pooling in the corners of her eyes again. It’s not – none of it has been bad, not Ona’s kindness and not Fi saying that she likes Dani and asking for more time, but it’s frustrating, the gap between reality and Dani’s expectations. She realizes now that she had half-expected Ona to fight for her, to ask her not to say that, to tell Dani that she’d decided she wanted _her_. And just as well, she’d expected Fi to tell her yes, to be so blindingly happy in the face of Dani’s recently acquired bravery that the brightness of her smile would light a fire to Dani’s thoughts. 

Instead, what Dani gets is this: the dawning of reality, one in which she wants so much and wants to be wanted and instead is left with her unfulfilled desires and a growing sense of shame curled around her stomach.

 _Dani: no problem!_  
_i’d love that, please_ Dani writes, and adds on a _have a nice day <3_ because she’s feeling weird and all over the place and apparently being overly polite is her strategy for today.

She turns off her alarm when it rings and makes her way to the restroom. She resolutely doesn’t meet her own gaze in the mirror before brushing her teeth and hopping into the shower. A quick glance was enough to fill her in on the sad state of her puffy face, and she’s not about to dwell on that, too. 

Miraculously, she doesn’t cry in the shower. She washes her hair and her body as gently as she knows how and focuses all her energy into planning what to get for Louise when she goes shopping after work today. She doesn’t want to think too hard about how she’s seeing Ona for the first time tomorrow or about how Fi might tell Dani she doesn’t like her _enough_ , so instead she works on a mental list of all the places she knows that sell Louise’s preferred brand of lipstick, and tries to estimate how many of those fit in her budget. Tomorrow’s going to be fine – Louise’s going to be there, and if anything gets too awkward with Ona Dani can just stick to her side like super glue. She should probably make some flashcards to prepare in case she needs to maintain a conversation with Zoe and Tanya for more than 10 minutes. 

Her main plan, Dani decides, after she’s mentally catalogued every single beauty store in Manchester and can no longer avoid thinking about Louise’s party, is playing it cool. Awkward silences lead to random topics of conversation and random topics of conversation might lead to talking about feelings and she’s not – there’s no way that’s happening tomorrow. Not when she already has a talk with Fi to look forward to. And not when she’s feeling so off-balance she starts crying at the drop of a penny. She’s not about to show up to Fi’s looking like an extra at the end of Titanic. 

She stares at her own reflection in the mirror and grimaces at the puffiness around her eyes. No more crying—that’s her life motto for the day, and she skips straightening her hair before work simply because she can’t take another second of looking at herself.

\---

 

“Your hair looks nice like this,” Chris comments when he leans over the counter to talk to Dani during their break. “So, you’re going over to Louise’s tomorrow?”

Dani pauses with her sandwich halfway to her mouth, “You’re friends with Louise?” she asks. She’s been working with Chris for over a year now, and apparently _this_ is a thing now. She squints at him, and Chris shrugs. 

“I met her at PJ’s Christmas party last year,” he explains, and Dani wants to leap out of her chair and out of the shop in general, “She’s really nice,”

“Yeah,” Dani agrees, because she is, even if she’s also, as Dani had correctly guessed, the kind of person to invite acquaintances to her birthday party. Dani plasters on a smile, “So, where did you two meet?” 

“PJ and I?” Chris asks, and his grin goes a little manic for a second, “We went to school together.”

“Film school,” Dani guesses, and Chris nods, leaning in a little further so he can steal one of Dani’s cookies from where they’re resting against her water bottle. Dani frowns. 

He chews for a second, then, “Ona’s told you?” and _of course_. Dani makes an affirmative noise. She’s spent every work day for the past two weeks texting Ona back and forth and just generally thinking about her and not once had her come up as a point of conversation. But of course today of all days Chris would decide to talk about their mutual friends. Dani kind of wants to kill him – they’ve worked together for a year, for Christ’s sake. 

“You two are close?” Dani asks, then, because apparently she has no impulse control and, in spite of herself, wants to know if maybe Ona’s mentioned her before.

“Not as close as you are,” Chris replies, and Dani wants to bang her head against her desk. “PJ says she’s been talking about you _a lot_ lately.” He sounds speculative, and Dani aims for nonchalance, 

“Does he?” 

“Yup,” Chris says, popping the ‘p’ somewhat obnoxiously, “So, should I order you a club t-shirt now or what?”

Dani stares at him, “Sorry?”

“The Bi club?” Chris says, like it’s obvious, “We don’t have t-shirts, by the way, that was a joke.”

“I don’t–,” Dani doesn’t understand how they’re suddenly on this subject, and it’s. How? “How–”

“Uh, I can tell,” Chris says, and Dani looks at him like he’s lost it, “Can’t you? Is that why you’ve never mentioned anything?”

“You’re bi?” Dani asks, then “We’re at _work_ , why would I mention–and what do you mean you can tell? It’s not a spider-sense.”

“It kind of is, though,” Chris tells her, “And sure, we’re at work, but we’re friends, right?” 

Dani was not aware of that. She thinks back to how Chris seems to always be leaning into her space and trying to pull her into conversation. That’s– _friends._ “Yes,” she says, and Chris eyes go wide. 

“Wow, Dani,” Chris says, but he looks like he’s about to start laughing, “And here I thought we had a whole thing going,”

“Shut up,” Dani tells him, because apparently they’re friends, “I can’t believe I didn't know you were bi.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I told you I went out with a guy the other day,” Chris says, and Dani can’t remember that happening, but it’s not rare that she misses a few context clues here and there, so she just nods. Chris nods, too, but his lips are pressed together and his eyebrows are raised and he looks kinda like he’s telling her he thinks she’s dumb without saying it to her face. She gives him a look, and he shrugs. 

“So,” he starts, stealing another one of her cookies.

“These are my desert–” Dani interrupts him. 

“You have your sandwich, come on,” he says, then, “So, how’s it going with Ona?”

Dani tries to act casually, but Chris looks a bit crazy around the eyes, and she ends up saying “We’re not talking about this.”

“What?” Chris asks. 

“Chris,” she says, “We’re not talking about this.”

Chris pauses, and Dani almost wants to give him the last of her cookies just so he’ll stop _looking_ at her, but then he says, “Fine,”

She nods, “thanks,” and, because she’s weak, offers him her last cookie. He takes it, shoving the whole thing inside his mouth and speaking as he chews, 

“Do you wanna help me find a gift for Louise after work?”

“Don’t speak while you chew,” Dani admonishes, “And yes, I’d like that.”

\---

Dani’s dressed in black jeans and a mesh t-shirt as she hops into an Uber to go to Louise’s. Her hair’s in a messy bun on top of her head, and she’s wearing eyeliner but not lipstick in an attempt to lie to herself and everyone else by pretending she didn’t spend two hours staring at her own reflection while trying to figure out if she looked like she was dressed to impress. She wanted to look casual—she doesn’t _regret_ the mesh t-shirt or the eyeliner, exactly, but she’s pretty sure her palms are sweating where they’re cradling the polka-dotted box containing Louise’s gift. 

She arrives at Louise’s five minutes past three and spends the entire ride up the lift drying her palms on her jeans and fixing her fringe. She’s going to be fine – she managed not to cry once yesterday and she fully intends to maintain that. 

Louise’s apartment, when Dani walks in, is overwhelmingly decorated in different shades of pink. Somehow, it doesn’t look tacky. Instead, the lighter tones blend well with the whites and blacks of Louise’s furniture, and the darker shades emphasize the details in a way that actually looks proper tasteful. Dani smiles to herself before calling Louise’s name loudly to announce her presence. 

She looks beautiful, too, when she comes around the corner from the kitchen. 

“Happy birthday,” Dani wishes her, pulling her into a hug. Louise hugs her back fiercely, as she always does, and Dani feels immediately better. “I love you,” she tells her, and Louise looks up at her, 

“I love you too,” she says, and thanks her when Dani hands her her gift. It’s comfortable, watching with a smile as Louise opens the box and grins excitedly as she lifts each of the lipsticks. She makes a swatch of each shade on her hand and wrist and thanks Dani three more times with a lot of very enthusiastic hugging before she places them back inside the box and takes Dan’s hand to pull her into the kitchen. 

It’s a mess of different dishes and drinks taking over the entire counter space, a wild assortment of balloons covering the floor and a large “Happy Birthday Louise” banner balanced across four different chairs. Dani whistles, “Wow.”

“I _know_ ,” Louise agrees, “Matt had the banner done and told me he’d be here to help hang it up, but he got stuck at work.”

Dani nods, “Thank God you have your friendly neighbourhood freakishly tall person to help you out, then.” 

Louise smiles at her, “Thanks, Dani.”

Together, they make quick work of hanging up the banner and most of the balloons. It’s relaxing – Dani and Louise move in silence as they set up the remaining decorations, Louise quietly pointing Dani to where she wants things to be. 

Some of the uneasiness that had been plaguing Dani on the way here has faded already, and she looks up at the clock to find that it’s five pm by the time they finish the final touches on Louise’s decorations. 

They’re sitting side by side on the couch when Louise leans into Dani to rest her head on her shoulder. “You never told me how it went with the pizza girl,” Louise says, and she must feel Dani tense up, then, because she sits up to look at Dani before Dani can figure out what to answer her. 

“Well,” Dani starts. She doesn’t know what to say, “I sort of–,” and stops. There’s no way to talk about this without mentioning Ona, too, and even if there was Dani doesn’t think she could do it. She wants to tell Louise about her. Louise waits her out, and Dani considers what she’s going to say before continuing, “I ended up texting Ona about it, like you said I should.” 

“Oh,” Louise says, but she doesn’t sound surprised that Dani ended up deciding to contact her after all, “And did it help, then?”

“She did,” Dani tells her, “and it turns out that we have a lot in common, you know. It’s just–she’s very easy to talk to.”

Louise watches her, and Dani suddenly wishes Louise didn’t know her so well, because the next thing she says is, “You have feelings for Ona.”

Dani nods, and she’s thinking about how Ona’s going to be there in less than an hour and Dani doesn’t even know what she _looks_ like, “I have feelings for both of them,” Dani admits.

“Shit,” Louise says, “What are you going to do?” 

Dani sighs, leaning back against the couch and looking up at the ceiling, “I already did. I asked Fi out.”

Louise makes a sound in the back of her throat, “You asked Ona out?” 

“No,” Dani turns to look at her, frowning. Louise's brows are furrowed, “Fi’s the pizza girl, I asked her out.”

“Oh,” Louise says, and she sounds confused, “So you've asked the pizza girl out.”

“She said no–well, actually, not really. She told me she needed to think about it,” Dani tells Louise. She's trying to get over the embarrassment, and telling someone else doesn't exactly help, but it feels better than Dani thought it would, “So I'm waiting.”

“And Ona?” Louise asks, and Dani sighs again.

“There's this other girl she likes, I told her to go for it,” Dani says. 

“Why?” 

“I guess I just felt like- I didn't want to be the person holding her back from what she deserved, you know.” Dani explains, but it falls a tad flat when she says it out loud, “The way she talked about that other girl, it was–she seems incredible.”

“So are you, though,” Louis argues, and Dani's thankful, but it's not–she doesn't know how to explain all the ways she doesn't add up to who she wants to be. 

“Not like that, I'm not,” Dani says, and Louise looks like she's ready to argue some more, but Dani stops her, “It's fine, I'm not–it’s okay. And I like Fi.”

Louise sighs, pats Dani's thigh in commiseration. “I hope it works out with her, then,” she says, and Dani's grateful.

They sit in silence for a while, Louise seeming to sense that Dani's mood has shifted back into something less than great. She knocks their knees together, and her tone is purposefully light when she says, “It's kind of funny that they have the same name, though.”

Dani turns to look at her. She's pretty sure she hasn't spaced out and missed a sudden change in subject. She must look confused, because Louise adds, “Fi? Her name's Fiona too, right?”

“I don't know, actually,” Dani says, then, “Who's Fiona?”

Louise stares at her, “What do you mean 'who's Fiona?’” and there's a beat of silence before Louise shoves her sideways, “Dani, Ona's name is Fiona.”

“Is it?” Dani asks, because that's something she didn't know – she kind of wishes she didn't automatically store that new bit of information so dearly in her brain, like she does with every aspect of Ona she has the privilege of knowing. 

Louise is staring at her, and Dani flushes, embarrassed. She just admitted to having _feelings_ for Ona and it has now been revealed that she didn't even know Ona's full name before now. She doesn't know Fi's either, she realizes, and feels almost sick with how silly she must seem to Louise. 

Louise opens her mouth to say something, then, but Dani doesn't get to find out what. The doorbell rings loudly, and Dani gets up and makes her way to the kitchen for some water while Louise goes to open the door. 

She pours herself some water straight from the tap and leans back against the sink. She can hear PJ's voice echoing loudly from the hallway, and her stomach drops. Ona's probably with him, they must have come together if Ona's not that close to Louise, and it would be awkward enough without an audience, but now it's just—Dani tries to breathe out through her mouth. It doesn't work, and she's considering sneaking off to hide in the bathroom when a voice she recognizes as Chris’ calls her name, 

“Dani,” he must have come with the rest of them, Dani realizes, and it's _great_ , it's just fucking great. They sound like they're in the lounge, and Dani dries her clammy hands on a dishrag before walking out of the kitchen–only she _doesn't_ walk out of the kitchen, instead colliding with someone else that's on their way in,

“I'm sorry,” she hears, and finds herself staring right at Fi. Fi, who is _here_ for some reason, and Dani's pretty sure Manchester has over 500 thousand inhabitants, how come everyone she knows is suddenly at the same party? Fi must know Ona, too, Dani realizes, and her blood runs cold. 

“Fi?” Dani asks, because she doesn't think her mouth can work around anything else right now. 

“Dani,” Fi says, and her blue eyes are huge on her face. She looks confused, then something else entirely, “ _Dani._ ”

“Ona,” it's Sophie's voice saying that, and Dani looks away from Fi to see that she's grinning at them both, “where did you leave your–oh, hi, Dani!” she greets her, and Dani can't move. She can't even speak, because what is–she looks back at Fi, and Fi looks slightly crazy, her eyes bright and her face flushed with red.

Dani stares at her, at Fi—who looks beautiful and sharp in the cold light of Louise's kitchen, whose voice sounds soft when it’s saying her name. Fi, who is apparently also called Ona. 

Sophie's watching them with a funny look on her face, and Dani turns right on time to watch as Sophie's eyes focus on where Fi's hands are wrapped around each of Dani's arms from her attempt to steady her a few seconds ago. “Is everything ok?” 

Dani doesn't speak, and Fi clears her throat awkwardly before saying, “Yeah, everything's fine.”

Her voice sounds funny, and she's still _touching_ Dani, and Dani thinks she might pass out soon. Sophie nods at them; she turns back toward the living room without saying anything else, Dani's eyes following her for no more than three steps before fixing themselves on Fi's. 

“Fiona,” Dani says, and she's sure she must look ridiculous – she can feel her face heating up and can't seem to stop herself from gaping. “That's your–that’s your name.” 

Fi lets go of Dani's arms, “That's my name, yes,” she says, but she sounds just as disbelieving as Dani did.

“Fi,” Dani starts, “Ona. Fiona.”

“And you're Dani,” Fi says. “Just–Dani.” 

“Danielle,” Dani corrects, gently. Her heart feels like it's skipping beats, and there's no explanation for the nonsensical turn of conversation or for how this is even a thing that is happening. 

“I know,” Fi tells her, and Dani notices that she's starting to sound less bewildered and more earnest. Fi's lips twitch, and Dani can't _believe_ this. 

“Holy shit,” Dani says, and Fi outright laughs, then, eyes glowing, tongue between her teeth. Dani's heart is speeding up impossibly and she can feel her lips stretching around a smile, too, mirroring the joyful look that's taken over Fi's features. 

“I can't believe I—” Fi starts, and Dani's nodding before she's even finished. 

“Me neither,” Dani tells her, and Fi snorts. Dani watches her. It makes sense, is the thing. Dani's watching Fi watch her back and it's the most logical thing in the whole universe that the two people Dani likes the most would be the same person. She thinks about Fi's Sarah Michelle Gellar sweatshirt, about Ona's Fall Out Boy obsession, about their Mario Kart races, and how Ona always knew what to say. Fi always knew, too. 

Dani's smiling so wide it almost hurts, and the fondness she finds in Fi's gaze warms every inch of her skin. 

“So,” Fi says, and Dani's tired of waiting, 

“I'm falling in love with you,” Dani interrupts, “with both of you, which now is just _you_ , and I—”

“Me too,” Fi tells her, and she takes Dani's hands in hers. They're soft, and Dani’s skin feels electrified where it's touching Fi's.

They don't drop each other's hands when Dani sees Louise walking towards them, a huge smile in her face. 

“Lou—” Dani warns, but Fi turns so she's standing next to Dani and grins happily at her. 

“I told you it was weird that they had the same name,” Louise tells Dani. She looks at Fi, “I’m not even going to comment on _your_ whole thing.”

Fi cringes, her face going an even darker shade of red. “Ona's known for being dumb,” PJ calls from the lounge. Dani snorts, and Fi squeezes her hand.

“Why didn't _you_ intervene, then?” Louise asks him, already making her way back to the others. Dani follows her, pulling Fi along. 

“She didn't tell me her name,” PJ explains, “Pizza girl, I mean.”

Chris laughs from where he's squished unnecessarily close to PJ on the couch. Even Sophie looks like she's trying hard to refrain from making a smartass comment. 

Dani ends up laughing, too, and pulling Fi down next to her on one of the loveseats. Chris shoots her a particularly knowing look, and Dani rolls her eyes at him.

“Should've known you'd be the type to think flashing people your tits passes as flirting,” Chris comments, his voice too airy.

Dani splutters, turning to shoot Louise her most scathing glare, “I told you that in confidence!”

“First of all, you _didn't_ tell me that,” Louise says, and Dani's confused for half a second until she hears the breathy sounds of Fi snickering next to her. 

“Seriously?” she asks, shoving her lightly. 

“I only told PJ,” Fi defends herself, but she's blushing and giggling and Dani likes her so much she tried to seduce her with freaking see-through fabric. She knocks their shins together, and Fi curls her foot around Dani's. 

Everyone turns to look at PJ, then, and he raises his hands. “I only told Sophie,” he says. Absolutely no one turns to look at her. There's a beat of silence, “ _Fine_ , I told Chris.”

Dani rolls her eyes, leaning into Fi's side. Fi's arms go up to rest over Dani's shoulders. “I hate everyone here.” She says, but she's too happy to sound anything but fond. 

\---

“The party was nice,” Dani says. She’s walking home with Fi, and they’re not holding hands, exactly, but their fingers keep brushing against each other as they sway closer and closer with each passing step. It’s a vague comment, and it’s not–she didn’t say it because the silence was awkward or anything, instead just because she can’t stop glancing sideways at Fi and thinking about touching her hands. That would be fine, but it’s not _just_ her hands. Fi looks beautiful today, she looks beautiful always, and Dani’s caught in the slight pout of her lips and the bold shape of her nose and the smooth way her hair’s framing her face. It’s a lot, and Dani’s–she’s trying her best here. 

“The decoration looked beautiful,” Fi comments, and Dani feels Fi’s fingers brush against hers in a way that feels a bit too purposeful. 

“Pink was a good choice,” Dani agrees, and she moves her hands so the pads of Fi’s fingers trace her palms. Dani shivers, and Fi quickens her step next to her. 

“Very Louise,” Fi says, and Dani’s nodding, walking faster alongside her, “The food was nice too,” 

“Did you try the mini-burgers?” Dani asks her even though she knows the answer—she’d been the one to put them in the plate they shared throughout the evening after Fi’d commented that they looked tasty. She knows Fi knows this. 

“So good,” is what Fi says, “Not adding cheese to them was a good choice.” 

“Totally,” Dani says, “The cake was really good too,” Dani adds. They stop in front of Dani’s building then, _finally_. Fi doesn’t offer a reply to the cake comment, and Dani nods her head towards the door. Fi follows her up the stairs and they walk quietly to the lift. 

Dani can’t keep still, she notices, watching Fi lean back against the mirror with a small smile on her face. Dani’s feet keep tapping against the floor, and she fiddles with the hem of her sweater in a way that she’s sure must betray her nervousness – she closes her eyes for a second, embarrassed, but when she opens them back again to glance at Fi she finds an amused edge to Fi’s grin. 

Dani’s too aware that Fi’s familiar with the way to her apartment, and her hands are almost shaking as she turns the key and opens the door. She gestures for Fi to walk in, and Fi does. She toes off her vans while Dani locks the door and moves back a little to flick on the lights. Dani looks at her, down at the bright blue Corgi print on one of Fi’s mismatched socks, up at the mirth in her eyes. Dani takes off her trainers, and Fi doesn’t move an inch while she waits. 

“Do you want a drink?” Dani asks, and her voice sounds out-of-breath. 

“No,” Fi says, “Thank you,” then she’s pushing Dani against the door and kissing her within an inch of her life. 

Dani’s hands fly up to tangle in Fi’s hair, and it’s––Dani’s thought about this so many times before, but not even the most creative of her fantasies comes close to the feeling of Fi’s body pressing against hers, her hands on Dani’s waist. Dani’s heart’s beating into overdrive, probably, her entire body growing warm as Fi licks into her mouth. Fi’s hands are traveling upwards to caress the side of her breasts over her sweater, and Dani’s blood feels like fire as it courses through her. Fi sinks her teeth down into Dani’s bottom lip, licks over the bite before dragging her mouth downwards to press kisses to Dani’s jaw. 

Dani gasps when Fi’s lips close around the skin of Dani’s neck – Dani throws her head back, and her fingers move to grab at Fi’s sweater and pull her impossibly closer. Fi sighs something that sounds too much like Dani’s name against her throat, and Dani can’t help but shift her legs so one of Fi’s can fit between them. Dani’s breath catches when Fi cups her palms around Dani’s breasts and she grinds down against Fi’s thigh. Fi looks up at her, then, lips red, face flushed. Dani pulls her up so she can cover Fi’s lips with her own. Fi kisses like Dani thought she would, and it’s surprising how unsurprising it is. Fi’s attentive and earnest and her lips move against Dani’s as if practiced–Dani’s fingers wrap tightly on Fi’s arms, and Dani’s knees go weak when Fi leans away from her for a second. Dani’s eyes can’t decide what to focus on, and Dani doesn’t ever want to look at anyone else. 

“We–,” Fi starts, and Dani’s stomach tightens at the roughness in her voice. “Where’s your bedroom?”

It’s direct, and Fi blushes charmingly as she says it. Dani licks her lips, “That way,” she tells Fi, nodding to the end of the hall. “Do you want–”

“Yes,” Fi says, and Dani laughs, high off the electricity of Fi’s skin against hers. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Dani points out. 

Fi’s eyes are intense as they stare into Dani’s, “Doesn’t matter,” she tells Dani, sounding very sure, “Whatever you want, I want that too.”

Dani’s heart seems to skip three beats at once, and she’s just–she stares at Fi, open-mouthed and heavy-lidded, watching as Fi watches her. “Bedroom, then,” she decides, and Fi presses a soft kiss to her lips before taking her hand. 

“Lead the way,” Fi says, and Dani tries, but they make it two steps before Dani’s the one pushing Fi against the wall, dragging her hands down Fi’s sides and kissing her way down Fi’s neck. They stumble together a few more steps, and Dani’s pressing Fi against the kitchen door frame and hitching Fi’s leg over her hips, grinding forward and viciously sucking a bruise onto Fi’s throat–Fi moans, a soft sound that makes Dani dig her fingers harder down the side of Fi’s thigh. 

“Oh my god,” Fi says, then, and Dani agrees, breathing a quiet _I know_ onto Fi’s neck, “Oh my god,” Fi says again, except this time she sounds different. Dani looks up at her to find that Fi’s eyes are trained on something behind Dani, and Fi – Fi starts laughing. 

“What?” Dani asks, leaning away from her and letting go of Fi’s leg. They’re still pressed close enough that Dani can feel Fi shaking with laughter, and it suddenly dawns on her exactly what Fi must be laughing at. 

“How many–” Fi starts, and Dani tries to hide her face on the crook of Fi’s neck. Fi pokes her in the ribs until she looks up, “Dani,”

“Please don’t,” Dani asks, mortified. 

“There are so many _boxes_ ,” Fi says, and Dani groans. “How can you like pizza that much? I never asked,”

Dani meets her eyes, “I don’t,” and Fi eyebrows fly up. Dani sighs, “I like _you_ that much.”

Fi seems to understand, then, and her eyes go wide, “Dani, you _haven’t_.”

“I’ve been giving them away to the shelter down the street, but the lady usually asks me to deliver them out of the box, they have a _thing,_ ” Dani explains, “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” Fi asks, before answering her own question, “You didn’t know I was gay. That’s why–that’s why you texted me the first time,”

Dani nods, “I’m sort of new to this,” she admits, and Fi nods, too. 

“The hair thing,” she remembers, “Is this why? Am I–am I the first?”

Dani takes a step backwards, leans against the doorframe across from Fi. She thinks it over for a second. Fi waits her out. “I only realized I was bi around a year ago,” Dani tells her, and Fi’s gaze is kind. “But there wasn’t really anyone special. Until there was you.”

Fi smiles, then, the serious note that had taken over her features at Dani’s admission replaced by the brightest of looks. She looks happy, her grin widening impossibly as she seems to fully understand the weight of Dani’s statement. 

She eyes Dani for a long moment, and Dani feels–she feels _everything_. 

“I can’t believe you were texting _me_ about me,” Fi tells her. Dani laughs. 

“So were you, though,” she points out.

Fi snorts, loud and inelegant, “I guess I was,” there’s a beat of silence, and Dani nudges Fi’s foot with hers. Fi looks down for a second, then up at Dani, the quirk of her lips decidedly amused, “I never did see that Willow shirt.”

Dani pauses, caught in the warmth of Fi’s gaze. She feels her lips twitch, “I guess I could show you now,” Dani tells her, eyes falling to Fi’s mouth, “It’s in my bedroom.”

“Well,” Fi drawls. Dani grins. “Then what are you waiting for?” 

Dani’s not. With a laugh, she takes Fi’s hand and leads the way.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! it's my first time ever writing anything even remotely longer than 5k words and i'm pretty happy with how this turned out. the title for this fic is a line from the song glow by gavin james because his whole album (only ticket home) always makes me think of dnp. i'm on tumblr as [unhawkeye](https://unhawkeye.tumblr.com) if anyone wants to come hang out.


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